Playing With Fire
by The Flame and Hawk's Eye
Summary: Riza Hawkeye had never been one to flaunt her body; always the one to cover up as much as she could for fear that her past and scars would be showcased to the world. She was never one to strive to be the center of attention, instead opting to blend into the background whenever possible. Elizabeth, however, was entirely different.


**A/N:** _I'm currently about 65% done with the next chapter of 'Hellbound' and finishing up rough drafts of my other WIPs, so figured that I would post this here to break things up a bit before I post one of them! This was dedicated to Tumblr user kristicles, who created this beautiful piece of art that inspired it (take out the spaces to see): krista-dunaway. deviantart art/ Elizabeth-594705725._

* * *

Riza Hawkeye had never been one to flaunt her body; always the one to cover up as much as she could for fear that her past and scars would be showcased to the world. She was never one to strive to be the center of attention, instead opting to blend into the background whenever possible. Riza was a watcher, a listener, as demonstrated by her successes as a sharpshooter. She was more than well-equipped for removing herself by fading into the shadows.

Elizabeth, however, was entirely different.

Elizabeth, though as conservative about her clothing choices as Riza, is supposedly one to showcase herself in an entirely different fashion, whether it be by adding an extra swing to her hips when she walked or by lowering the pitch of her voice just a smidge. Now, admittedly, it was unclear whether or not Elizabeth necessarily was that way in character, but based on the sort of 'reputation' she had conceived when interacting with the Colonel over the phone and in person a handful of times, it seemed only fitting for her personality.

So when Riza was confronted with the complicated issue of bringing forth her undercover persona during a split second decision, she was required to build on that 'reputation' and expectation for the faux character.

It happened a week prior when the Colonel received intel telling him that a proposed mob boss by the name of 'Johnathon Favara' had begun to frequent Madame Christmas's small establishment. Upon further investigation, and after confirming it with his aunt, the Colonel was indeed able to validate the claims… at least to some extent. Unfortunately, an immediate arrest was impossible. Despite the stacked evidence they had pointing to him as the ringleader, they still had no direct link between him and the rogue group he led.

But… if they were able to get a confession, then that would be a step in the right direction.

Using that to their knowledge, the Colonel was quick to devise a plan where they would be able to monitor him on the nights he frequented the Madame's before they would work on their next move. So for the time being it had become a reconnaissance mission in which the men were assigned roles stationed in or around the small bar. Meanwhile, Roy was to pose as one of the patrons while Riza would play the role of one of the new girls at the establishment, given the task to monitor his movements from beside the bar.

One thing they hadn't expected, though Roy would later claim that it was one of the first issues to cross his mind, was that the crime boss they were pursuing would zero in on Riza from across the bar and decide to approach _her_ of all the girls he could have otherwise chosen. Honestly, the fact that the mission had gone in that direction had baffled Riza. Of all the women there that night, she had been the plainest. Her dress had been something she had picked out of her closet; a red, high-collared satin gown that tended to hang loose around her waist and was hardly revealing.

She had been startled too because she hadn't expected him, or anyone really, to approach her at all. That left her mentally scrambling for something to work with that wouldn't reveal anything about who she actually was. And that was when she recalled the persona she would occasionally slip into when talking to the Colonel over the phone while undercover: Elizabeth.

It was surprisingly easy for Riza to slip into the role, despite having played it in person on a few rare occasions. This was the first time, however, that she had played the role for anyone else.

The rest of that night had gone without a hitch. And when the bar had begun to close down, the mobster promised to return the same time the next week, much to the Colonel's initial displeasure.

Riza had to remind him that, despite the mission not going exactly as they had intended it to, it had taken a direction where they could possibly extract information from him faster than they had intended to. She was surprised too that Madame Christmas had sided with her, citing that the presence of her nephew's other men and the countless 'sisters' of his that were present would assure that nothing would happen to Riza. After that, it took them nearly half of the week to convince him that it was the best possible way for them to advance. So when he reluctantly agreed, they immediately began to plan their next move.

Starting with how to equip Riza for the high-stakes mission.

One of the three dresses the Madame had chosen for her that Riza ultimately chose had been the least revealing, and yet contoured to her body as if it had been made specifically for her. The deep navy gown in question had a simple yet elegant design, hugging her shape as it draped over her hips and fell around her ankles. Its high collar and sleeveless arrangement was tasteful, yet revealed enough to pique anyone's interest. Though, she suspected, the lavish neckpiece bestowed upon her by the Madame had certainly helped: the immaculate layered golden cords that cascaded over her shoulders and down her chest proved to be a conversation starter, because within moments of him spying her, Favara had trekked across the rather empty room and had positioned himself in front of her, reintroducing himself. As if she could have _possibly_ forgotten him.

After they got reacquainted with the other, Favara ushered Riza, or, 'Elizabeth' as she was she was known to him, to a move secluded booth in the back corner of the Madame's bar. When she slid into the seat, she quickly took tabs on every location and position she could.

On the exact opposite side of the bar from them was an unoccupied booth which she would assume would be filled within a minute or so by the Colonel and his 'entourage.' Beyond that and to the right of that booth was the exit, where she could barely make out the form of one of Favara's men standing beneath the sign which dictated it as so. She knew that as the night wore on, the area would be vacated by either Lieutenant Havoc or Breda, who had stationed themselves outside. With Sergeant Fuery's guidance, they would take control the moment he received a signal dictating Favara's diverted attention.

And finally, opposite of that and on the other side of the room was the Madame's bar. Though she could only see the corner of it, Riza knew that Christmas's eyes were on their booth and likely would be quite frequently as the night continued, especially since the bar was surprisingly bare that night. Taking comfort in the fact that there would be eyes everywhere, Riza slipped almost effortlessly into the role she was designated to fill.

It didn't take long for Favara to slip into a more relaxed state after that, she noticed. Especially since it appeared that he had had a few drinks before strolling into the bar that night. With that in mind, Riza casually slipped into a superficial conversation with him, discussing things that ranged from 'her recent employment' at the bar to things as trivial as the weather.

Within that short span of time Favara grew more talkative toward her, more willing to comply and open up about himself, yet not enough to drop any hints about his gang affiliation. Although, she noticed, he was becoming more comfortable with her physical presence than anything.

His fingers glided over her thigh and she shuddered. She was thankful, though, that she had chosen to the don the longer of the three dresses the Madame had given her as options, because that meant she had less skin exposed to him. Plus, she thought as she kicked her ankle out and crossed one leg over the other and readjusting her skirt, it allowed her the ability to conceal the small pistol she had strapped to her other thigh.

Misinterpreting her tremble, the Favara leaned over, pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, "If you're cold I know how we could get you to warm up."

Despite the overwhelming smell of alcohol and the unsolicited contact, Riza forced herself not to gag. To remind herself of the importance of their mission, her eyes slowly slid over to the booth directly across the bar from them, and she instantly regretted it.

Staring back, completely obvious of that fact, was the Colonel; watching them as intently as he possibly could. Flanked on either side of him were two of his 'sisters,' playing their roles as his personal women for the night. But instead of slipping into his role, he had undecidedly made himself the most noticeable of them all.

When he saw that she was watching him, he made a move to get up, but was halted when she raised the hand that was on her lap just enough to signal him beneath the table. He wasn't ready to talk yet… but he _was_ distracted. Distracted enough, per say, to not notice if his loyal crony disappeared…

She saw the corners of his lips turn downward, but before she could give him another look he raised his left hand and touched his face, signaling what he had interpreted from her to someone outside her field of vision.

When he lowered his hand, his eyes instantly went back to the man sitting next to her, narrowing with contempt.

After giving him one final look to remind him of the importance of their roles, she casually turned back to her work in time for him to look up from the drink that was in front of him. When he gave her a lopsided grin, she mused, "Had enough?"

Favara processed it for a moment and then slowly shook his head side to side.

Riza tried her best to suppress her surprise. Not including the drinks she _hadn't_ seen him consume before the beginning of their 'rendezvous,' she had counted a total of two within the past half hour. While taking advantage of the fact that he had drank enough to spill his secrets on his own was not not a problem, the fact that he could over-consume it _was_.

"Isn't too much all at once dangerous though," she asked innocently.

Favara swayed for a few moments, digesting her question to the best of his ability. "But I'm… I _am_ a very dangerous man," he finally drawled as he patted his chest with his hand.

Riza's nose twitched when the strong scent of whiskey mixed with men's cologne bathed her moments after he had spoken. With that much alcohol in his system, she had expected him to be recumbent on the ground beneath the table. But instead he was only a little worse for wear. Still, this advantage could still prove beneficial if she worked it just right.

Resting her hand on his knee, she leaned forward and breathed, "Well, I love a dangerous man," just close enough to almost ghost his ear with her lips. "After all, I'm known to play with fire."

Her answer must have aroused a newfound affection of her, because he immediately returned the remark with a playful, "I don't want to burn you."

Flirtatiously flicking the bottom of his chin with her pointer finger, she purred, "I think I can handle you, especially given your reputation."

His brows slowly rose and he swayed a little before uttering, "Reputation, eh? And what – _hic_ \- exactly have you heard?"

Riza knew that at that point she would have to tread lightly. While his question was not completely accusatory, it still had the potential to escalate if she made a wrong move.

She was now entering dangerous territory.

Leaning in closer, she murmured, "Just something I heard down the pipeline is all. Like how you have those military dogs running around chasing their own tails. From what I've heard, they can't even make heads or tails of who's even running the show."

Clearly pleased by her recounting of his reputation, Favara chuckled. "Well, someone has to give those dogs something to do. Especially since I've taken their prized bones."

Riza had a feeling she knew precisely what said 'bones' were. The missing shipment of weapons Eastern Command never received was certainly 'prized' enough. Feeling that she had at last broken through, she rested her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. Raising a brow as she twirled one of her curls around her finger, she murmured, "It sounds like you have a story to tell."

He hesitated for a moment, but a quick bat of her eyes ultimately did him in, melting him and conforming him to her whim. "Oh, I've got somethin' alright."

When he leaned in closer to her, Riza shifted and uncrossed and then recrossed her legs in a way such that she was able to angle her body away from him. But, unfortunately for her, she did not realize that his leg had caught some of the fabric of her dress, resulting in it being tugged just enough to reveal both the holster and the weapon it held.

It took him a few moments to process what he was seeing, but when he did she knew. The way the color drained from his cheeks and the speed at which his face fell suggested to her that he recognized the pistol as one of military design. And, if they were correct in placing him as the top seller of illegally distributed military-grade weapons, then he would likely put two and two together, seeing that the name 'Elizabeth Morrison' was likely not on his short list of buyers.

Knowing that her cover was blown, Riza's hand instantly went down to her thigh and gripped the weapon. But before she could unholster it, he did the one thing she hadn't initially expected him to do: Run.

Grabbing the edge of the table, Favara shoved it away from the booth seats and just enough out of his way to slip through and bolt toward the exit.

As Riza struggled to climb past the booth and out of the booth in pursuit, she heard a yell from across the room. Looking up, she saw that Roy had pushed his way out of his respective booth, his hand down at his waistline and his body between the accused and the exit.

As Roy's hand gripped the gun at his hip, Favara produced a weapon of his own from a pocket in his jacket and had begun to turn it on Roy. But before he could so much as turn off the safety on his weapon, Riza's was out and in her hand.

She knew that firing directly toward the mob boss would likely end in disaster, with the potential that the wrong man or a bystander in the immediate zone receiving her bullet instead, despite her track record for accuracy. Instead, she turned her weapon toward one of the hanging light fixtures above and fired.

The bullet shattered the fixture's support and it fell, crashing down onto Favara's head just as he stepped beneath it. The sudden impact instantly knocked him cold; his body crumbling to the ground amongst the shattered glass and pieces of the light fixture.

With the imminent threat eliminated, Riza look the opportunity to push the table out of her path with her free hand, making sure to keep her gun raised and her eyes focused on the rest of the dimly lit room. But when she saw that Favara's loyal subordinate was nowhere to be seen, she allowed herself to relax slightly as she made her way over to the Colonel, who had stopped beside the unconscious man and was looking down at him.

"Are you alright, sir," she asked as he glanced up at her.

The corner of his lip tugged upward. "I'm fine, Lieutenant. What about you?"

She shook her head. "I'm alright. Just a little surprised is all."

"Yeah, me too," he muttered as the man at his feet groaned.

Before Riza could say anything further, they heard someone approaching them. Both of them turning toward the person at once, they saw Madame Christmas stop just short of them, her eyes instantly wandering down to the man lying on the floor. After chewing on her unlit cigarette for a few moments, she looked back up at them and said, "Your Sergeant already called the MPs and said that they should be here in a couple of minutes. I suggest the two of you get our friend situated while I tell the girls what to say."

Shooting her a sympathetic smile, the Colonel said, "Will do… And don't worry. I'll pay for the light."

The Madame waved her hand dismissively as she turned on her heels. "No need to worry about it. The thing was ancient anyways. Gives me an excuse to get a new one now."

His eyes lingered on the back of his adoptive aunt's head for a few as she strolled away from them before he shook his head. Turning his attention back to a semi-conscious Favara, he crouched down and began to gather his hands behind his back. Looking back up at Riza, he asked, "Could you keep an eye out for the military police? I've got it from here."

Riza dipped her head. "Of course, sir. I'll let them know where to find you."

He shot her a small smile. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

After giving him a quick salute, Riza turned around and began to head toward the front of the establishment, rehearsing what she would say in her mind in anticipation of the onslaught of questions she would likely receive.

* * *

"Hopefully this will lead to a full-blown confession," the Colonel muttered as he leaned back against the military vehicle they were standing beside, folding his arms over his chest as he watched the MPs guide the still-drunk and rather dazed Favara into one of their cars. "But if not, I'm sure we can get him booked for something until we can build a case against him with the evidence we have."

"Hopefully," Riza agreed as she reached up and unclasped one of the teardrop earrings from her ear. "I feel confident that we can at least try him for illegal possession of a military-grade firearm."

"That's true," he replied as he watched the vehicle housing Favara roll to life and begin to roll away. As it passed them, she could see the accused look out the window at them, his eyes flickering from Roy back to Riza before settling back on Roy.

"I don't want a repeat of this mission anytime soon," he added as he too locked eyes with Favara, turning his head to watch the car as it slowed and turned a corner.

"I agree, sir," Riza began. "Although I will admit that it proved quite effective."

"This isn't about how the mission was executed, Hawkeye. It's about the fact that he was looking at you like an object. I don't want a repeat of anything like that in the future." He paused and turned toward her when he noticed that she had chosen not to continue. His face softened slightly and he explained, "Toward the end I could tell you were getting very uncomfortable. Your body language said it all. Hell, I was about to get to my feet and stop it myself when he saw your gun and reacted. After that it was just a matter of taking action regarding his sudden decision to run.

"So before we even consider a mission of similar caliber in the future, I want to rehash how it's executed so that we don't run into anything like that again. Even if it means we restructure who goes undercover as what."

Riza nodded in understanding. "Of course, sir. Perhaps next time we can choose a more involved cover for you."

The corner of his lip twitched upward in silent agreement before he continued. "But overall, you did well tonight, Lieutenant. I was impressed with how well you performed, both undercover and as an officer."

"Thank you, sir," she replied as she dipped her head.

His eyes wandered up to glance beyond her and, when he seemingly saw nothing of major concern, he leaned back against the car once more, his smile taking on a more mischievous nature. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you practiced that spiel before."

She tried, but ultimately failed, at suppressing her amused smile. After taking a moment to glance around to sure that none of the men were within earshot, she replied, "Once or twice at most."

"Really," he asked as he raised a mischievous brow. "Because I'd venture to say that you've practiced a few more times than that."

She rolled her eyes as she reached up and removed the clip that had kept her curls pulled up. Shaking them out and allowing them to tumble down her shoulders and back, she admitted, "Perhaps a time or two more. Although, I'm not sure how you would know, _sir_." She shifted her eyes to peer over his shoulder, taking notice in the fact that a few of the MPs had migrated closer to them as they continued to comb the scene.

Understanding her signal, Roy moved his shoulders up and down. "I just had a sneaking suspicion is all," he teased as he tapped his finger against his temple.

"Oh, I see," she replied as she peeked over his shoulder again, watching as the MPs that had interrupted their banter before turned away and began to head in the opposite direction. When she looked back at him, she could see him reading her expression, already deciphering what she just witnessed.

Taking advantage of the small window of opportunity, he took a step closer and made a move to reach up and gently grasp one of her strands of hair, but stopped when she shot him a look of warning. Now was not the time nor the place.

Knowing she was right, he plunged his hand back into his coat pocket with a sigh and took a small step back, "You should get going. I still have a couple of people I need to discuss matters with here before I head home for the night."

She raised her brows and made a move to step back toward the scene. "If you want, sir, I can help."

He raised a hand and shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but there's no need. I shouldn't be too long. And besides," he added as he nodded toward her. "I can see the goose bumps on your arms. It's getting a little chilly to be out in formalwear."

Riza nodded. "Understood, sir," she said with a crisp salute. When he returned the gesture, she took a step back and angled her body slightly away from him. But before she began to look for an officer that looked like they would be leaving the scene soon, she paused. "Before I go," she said as she looked back at him, "I wanted to double-check if you had the F-105 forms for the case."

She saw his eyes widen ever so slightly before he gasped and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. "You know what, I think I slipped the binder they're in into the pile I sent home with you earlier. If you could get those to me as soon as you could, that would be great."

Riza nodded. "I see. Thank you for letting me know, sir. Have a good night, and try not to work too late."

"I won't. You have a good night too," he replied with a sigh, signaling the end of their conversation.

After giving him a final salute, she grasped the skirt of her dress and lifted it just enough so it wouldn't drag. As she scanned the scene for an officer that was getting to leave, she made a mental note in her mind to actually _remember_ to bring the forms when she stopped by…–

"Lieutenant?"

Glancing back over her shoulder, she raised a brow in question.

He smiled when her eyes met his. "I forgot to tell you that you look stunning tonight."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, returning the smile. "You looked wonderful tonight as well."

He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly before dismissing her again with a small wave, turning away to head back toward the scene when she acknowledged it.

Feeling her smile widen, she turned her focus back to looking for a ride… And to how she would be presenting those forms to him once he was done that evening… Dress and all.


End file.
